Legendary Pickaxe Hurling Wolf Sitter

The vengeful players "sneakily" approached the fight. Their weapons were already out, crying for blood as they murmured their schemes. 

"Surround the bastard." 

"Send him to the afterlife."

"What even happens to NPCs when they die?" 

"Who cares! All this guy ever does is bully players." 

They were murmuring softly enough not to be heard, but their lips were easy to read. What a bunch of amateurs! Jack lazily stretched, heading toward the 20 of them. 

Their eyes suddenly went from the fighting to this unknown individual. Jack was currently wearing a long green robe that hid his features. 

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?! Wait, that wolf belongs to the Demon King, right?! It's you!" One screamed triumphantly. 

"Me? I'm just the dog sitter….eh, wolf sitter." Jack shrugged. 

"?!?"